The Uniform
by allthegirlsarebummers
Summary: The prompt from Tumblr: Blaine decides to wear his Dalton uniform to prom.
1. Chapter 1

Kurt has spent weeks picking out the clothes for this moment. He has decided to go simple, a sleek charcoal name-designer tuxedo he can just barely afford with his aunt Anne's smirking help, a skinny black tie smooth over the light gray dress shirt. This was his nineteenth outfit picked out for the night, and he's pleased with it.

He waits, nervously rocking onto his toes and then his heels. Burt and Carole smile affectionately at him from the dining room table, finishing the dinner Kurt cooked for them but was too full of butterflies to eat himself. Finn and Rachel have gone ahead, Rachel suggesting an early arrival will prevent any unnecessary drama with Quinn. Kurt is distracted, briefly, by the thought of Rachel winning prom queen and then having pig's blood doused on her by an unhinged Quinn, ending in some bizarre duet while the school goes up in flames—when there is a knock at the door.

Kurt breathes in sharply and shakes his arms, trying to get the jitters out. He flexes his hands, fingers stretched out, once—expand—contract—twice—expand—and then he trembles from his fingertips to the rest of his body before a calm sets over him. Blaine is at the door. His boyfriend, come from Dalton to take him to prom at McKinley. Kurt shoots a glance at Burt and Carole, and they are motioning with wide grins to him to open the door. Kurt smiles back, the nerves tempered by the knowledge that it is Blaine who is waiting. Perfect Blaine. Kurt opens the door and opens his mouth to say, "I was starting to wonder—" when he sees what Blaine is wearing.

It's not that the Dalton uniform is unattractive. Well, it is, with that gaudy red lining, as if a child had gotten hold of his daddy's suit jacket and drawn down every seam of it in red lipstick. And that _tie_. God. But it could be worse. Much worse. Probably. Kurt liked seeing Blaine in his Dalton uniform, liked how the lines of the jacket made his torso look, liked how the trousers hugged his butt—and Kurt had had months of seeing Blaine in this uniform, months enough to know—to _know_—Blaine would look spectacular in a tux.

Except Blaine, the night of prom, the night Kurt has dreamt of and wondered about since he was four and first saw a Ken doll in a little dapper black tux—Blaine is not wearing a tux. He is wearing that damned Dalton uniform with that damned comical tie, and Kurt can't help the look on his face.

Blaine is instantly on guard, but he plays it off. "Kurt, you look amazing." He leans in and kisses Kurt softly, pretending to go for the cheek but really hitting the jaw, right where he knows Kurt likes it. Kurt is unmoved by this blatant attempt at buttering him up.

"Thanks," Kurt says back, raising an eyebrow at Blaine.

Blaine leans in the door a little and waves at Burt and Carole sitting at the table. They wave back. Kurt contemplates his options—he needs to get Blaine out of this uniform, immediately, but where can he find a tux at this hour?—and then also waves at Burt and Carole before grabbing Blaine's hand and closing the front door after them.

They make it down to Blaine's car, parked on the street. Blaine opens the passenger door for Kurt, but instead of climbing in, Kurt pauses and tilts his head at Blaine, then leans against the car.

"Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine asks softly, his eyes worriedly flickering from the interior of the car to Kurt's face.

Kurt can't help but laugh at the sad-puppy expression on Blaine's face. "Blaine, your _school uniform_ for prom? Really?"

Blaine's mouth drops open in protest. "It's formal wear!"

"Prom, Blaine. Prom." At the juxtaposition of these words, though, Kurt cracks up. "I sound like Molly Ringwald in Pretty in Pink. What about _prom_, Blaine?"

"Oh god, don't you even," Blaine warns, wagging a finger at Kurt and stepping closer. Kurt is still leaning against the car, and Blaine presses into him, the earth working to his advantage: he is still standing on the grass of the Hummel household lawn while Kurt has both feet in the paved shoulder of the street, and not only does he gain a few inches on Kurt from this angle, but gravity is his friend. Blaine wraps his arms loosely around Kurt's neck and kisses him, kisses that start conventionally on the mouth but roam southeast.

Kurt almost forgets about the uniform for a second. Blaine's lips have this effect on him, and he finds himself lost in the wonder that is Blaine's mouth sucking on the line where his head turns into his neck. Then he opens his eyes wide at the unpleasant thought of Burt perhaps watching them out the front window of the house, and he puts his hands up to Blaine's chest, gently pushing him away a few inches. "We are getting you something else to wear. No fair attacking me with kisses."

"It almost worked," Blaine whispers, moving his head in again to nibble at Kurt's neck.

"Blaine." Kurt gasps at what Blaine is doing to him, but then gets a hold of himself and slaps Blaine on the arm—on his uniform-clad arm. "Blaine!"

"Kurt," Blaine growls back, but Kurt has finally managed to dislodge himself from underneath Blaine, and he sidesteps away. "Aw, Kurt," Blaine whimpers after him, but one look at the blue-and-red-striped tie and Kurt has his mind focused again.

"Blaine, you are not going to my prom wearing that monstrosity."

"I don't have anything else to wear."

Kurt bites his lip and wracks his brain, trying to come up with the answer. All Blaine really needs is a different jacket and a better tie, my god, that tie. The pants—he can keep the pants. Kurt flushes involuntarily as his thoughts roam away from fashion and towards Blaine's ass, but it's dark and Blaine doesn't see.

"I have an idea," Kurt says, and his voice is filled with delight at what he has come up with.

"Do you now?" Blaine asks, his tone a little grumpy.

"You're going to love it. I can't believe I haven't introduced you to them yet, though I've only met them a few times."

"Oh?" Blaine furrows his brow, puzzled, but he steps away from the car and holds the door open wider so Kurt can get in. When Kurt is settled inside, Blaine closes the door and goes around to the other side. Kurt smiles fondly at him as he slides into the driver's seat, and Blaine returns the look.

"Hey, you," Kurt says.

"Hey," Blaine says back, and their faces lean in together and connect at the mouth.

Kurt finally breaks the kiss, smiling against Blaine's face. "Come on, then. We're already late to prom, and Rachel lives twenty minutes from here."

The alarm on Blaine's face is evident. "Rachel?"

"Don't worry, Blaine, she and Finn are already at the prom. But Rachel's dads—they'll have something for you to wear. You have the same broad chest as her dad Nathan. They will also sympathize with me, and thus lend you something extra fabulous."

Blaine sighs. "I'm sorry, Kurt. I really didn't think about it. I should have."

Kurt looks down at his own suit, the nineteenth choice. He has just a moment where Blaine's obliviousness makes his face flicker with irritation, but then he looks up again into Blaine's eyes and can't help but smile. "I like that about you," Kurt says. "I like everything about you that's different from me. And everything that's the same, too," he adds as an afterthought. "I like everything."

"You're not mad?"

"Mad? No. Patiently exasperated? Sure. But—" The words fall out of his mouth naturally. "But I love you—and something as silly as a suit isn't going to come between us."

Blaine puts a hand up to Kurt's face and strokes his cheek with his thumb, lightly. Kurt leans into the touch.

"I love you, too," Blaine says. "Enough to be inflicted with Berrys tonight."

"Oh, you'll love Rachel's dads. They're frenetic, like her, but in a _good_way. And—" Kurt pauses, unsure if he should go this far tonight, but he's already started the sentence, so he finishes it: "I like seeing how they live. I like to think of myself living with—with someone, like that, someday. They give me hope—for my future."

Blaine's kiss then is sudden and filled with more lust than love. Kurt's mind flickers from his future to his present, to his prom night, and finally, heavily, to this moment with Blaine. This is all that matters right now. As he turns his body to conform against Blaine's a little more easily, Kurt is thankful, just for a moment, for the ugly red-and-blue-striped tie that he wraps his hand around and tugs, pulling Blaine into him. 


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt's hair is almost completely back in place by the time they pull up in front of the Berrys' house. He remembers the last time he was here with Blaine, before the party that led to the only actual fight he has ever had with his boyfriend. He fidgets and knows his discomfort at the memory is obvious.

Blaine looks over at Kurt with what Kurt can only label bedroom eyes and says, deadpan and sincere, "I promise the only person I'm kissing in this house tonight is you."

Kurt laughs and trails his hand down the side of Blaine's face to cup his chin, his thumb rubbing lightly over Blaine's bottom lip. "Good." He notes with pleasure how Blaine's eyes close and he leans into Kurt's hand. Kurt slips the tip of his thumb into Blaine's mouth and is rewarded with light nibbling that turns him on more than it should, outside of this house. "Blaine."

Blaine opens his eyes and sucks on Kurt's thumb, then reaches for him. Kurt laughs and slides away from Blaine, opening the car door and getting out in a quick movement. He bends over and looks back into the car at Blaine, leaned across the seat with his hands stretched out after Kurt. He has a pitiful expression on his face, and Kurt is, as always, gleeful he can have such an effect on anyone, let alone _this_ beautiful boy. "Come on, Blaine. Prom awaits."

Kurt only has to wait a few seconds for Blaine to get his game face back on and come out of the car. He takes Kurt's hand and they walk up to the front door. Kurt rings the doorbell.

It's only a few seconds before the door swings open to reveal John, Rachel's taller father. Kurt smiles widely at John and has a moment of panic when he forget what he needs to say.

"Oh, hello Kurt." John peers at Blaine and his eyes flicker down to Blaine and Kurt's hands, clasped. He smiles. "This must be Blaine. Rachel mentioned you," John says to Blaine. "We wondered, when she told us about that date…"

"Is that the _Blaine _we've heard so much about?" Kurt hears a voice from inside the living room, past the foyer. "The lovely gay boy Rachel went out with?" Nathan emerges from the living room and stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Blaine with Kurt. "Oh Kurt, honey, I am so sorry. Blaine, what were you _thinking_?" He shakes his head and bustles past John to pull Kurt and Blaine by their hands into the house. "You were right, of course, to bring him here," Nathan says to Kurt, and Kurt breathes a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, Nathan."

John laughs and then coughs, smiling apologetically at Blaine. "I didn't even notice! It's not a… terrible uniform."

Blaine grins sheepishly. "You can say it. I ought to be throttled." He looks at Kurt with heart-eyes, and Kurt's stomach flutters. "Kurt's been too nice about it."

"I just assume Wes threatened you with his gavel if you didn't represent the Warblers at McKinley."

"Then I will pretend that's what happened," Blaine replies, chuckling.

"Boys, boys," Nathan interrupts with an edge of urgency. "Prom started nearly an hour ago, come on, upstairs to the closet."

Kurt's stomach flutters again, but this time in anticipation at seeing _the closet_. Rachel showed it to him once, the spare bedroom that had been turned into a repository for all the suits and nice clothes Nathan and John bought. There is a wall devoted to Rachel's dresses from various productions and dress-ups over the years, but by far its primary purpose is for menswear. As Nathan leads them upstairs, Kurt shoots an excited look over his shoulder at Blaine, who grins back at him.

"Thank you for doing this, Nathan," Kurt says to the back of Nathan's head.

Nathan throws his hands in the air and turns around partially as he reaches the top of the stairs. "Kurt, dear, you should have brought Blaine over _weeks_ ago."

Kurt, bizarrely, feels defensive of his boyfriend. "His fashion sense isn't _that_ terrible—"

He hears Blaine snort behind him.

They're walking down the hallway now, but Nathan stops and turns around. Kurt and Blaine stand awkwardly next to each other, the backs of their hands lightly touching. Nathan grabs Kurt's hand, though, and holds it as one might hold the Queen's hand before kissing it. It's at Blaine that Nathan looks, though, when he says, "John and I have an interest in your life, Kurt. We've been wanting to meet Blaine since we first heard you were together, if I'm being honest. John will deny it, though," he said in a stage whisper before calling down the stairs, "_Won't_ you, John?"

"Never even wondered about Blaine at all! Blaine who?" they heard John shout up from the living room.

Blaine and Kurt laughed and Nathan smiled at Kurt. "I know we don't see much of you around here, Kurt, but we _do_ care. Please come see us more often."

Kurt wants to promise he will, but the thought of purposely spending massive amounts of time with Rachel makes him cringe inwardly, just a little. But he nods, because the full meaning of what Nathan has told him fills him with a bubble of happiness that almost spills tears into his eyes.

Nathan finally releases Kurt's hand, which then finds its way instinctively into Blaine's. Blaine squeezes, and they follow Nathan into the closet.

Kurt swallows a stupid pun about being "in the closet" before Nathan stands proudly in front of a rack of suits of all shades between white and black and blue, and flourishes his hands wildly.

"Voila, boys! I give you … suits!"

Blaine whistles at what even he can tell are name-brand tuxedos. "Are you sure about letting me borrow one of these, sir?"

"Blaine, if you call me sir again, I will pull all the gel out of your hair, and it will be painful. I promise you this."

Blaine laughs and steps forward to run his fingers over the suits. "Thank you, Nathan."

Kurt watches them, these two men, both about four inches shorter than him, both broad-shouldered, both compact, both with dark heads of hair, Blaine's gelled and Nathan's coiffed, and he has a moment where he doesn't see his boyfriend and Rachel's dad, but instead sees the present and the future at once, shades of prom night flitting into all the fantasies he has about a wedding night. Kurt isn't listening to Nathan instruct Blaine in how to pick out a tux, because he can't stop the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. His brain runs wildly from one movie scenario to the next, from every cliché teen movie about proms he's ever seen to every cliché romance ending in a wedding, every Disney movie, every happy ending, _every_ happy ending comes crashing into his head at the same time, looking at the back of Blaine's head nodding along with whatever Nathan was telling him. _I love him, I love him, I love him_, Kurt chants in his head, and then sucks in a breath to steady himself and come back to the real world.

_It's just prom_, he tells himself. _It's not a promise._

Nathan turns around suddenly. "Now, Kurt, I'll leave you to it. I know you've been waiting to do this since you saw him tonight."

Kurt's brain doesn't fully comprehend what Nathan means by "do this" at first, but he smiles awkwardly, thanks Nathan again, and watches him leave the room.

He's feeling overwhelmed. He digs the fingernails of one hand into his palm and blinks quickly, internally batting back at the wave of incredibly irritating emotion fighting to break out and ruin his complexion for the night. In front of him, Blaine slips his Dalton jacket off quietly, his posture and the way he's not looking at Kurt signaling his awareness of his boyfriend's odd mood. In an instant, all the struggle of pushing back the heaviness in his chest and head stops, becomes unnecessary, as he appreciates the simple way that Blaine always knows how to handle Kurt. As Kurt always knows how to handle Blaine.

In a few steps, Kurt has closed the gap between them, and he takes Blaine's Dalton jacket and hangs it carefully on an empty coat hanger. When he turns back, Blaine is grinning at him sort of haphazardly.

"What?" Kurt asks.

"I'm gonna have to take my pants off I guess," Blaine says, and the sheepish way he says it makes Kurt giggle, and then soften his face into an expression he knows must look incredibly dopey.

"You are allowed to take your pants off in my presence," he says, one corner of his mouth twitching up.

"Good to know," Blaine says, and colors slightly as he kicks his shoes off, unbuttons his pants and takes them off with all the grace of a gopher, tripping a little failing at pulling one of the legs off completely before losing his balance. Kurt moves forward swiftly and grabs him by the elbow to catch his fall before he readjusts his arm to Blaine's side and holds him up a little more securely.

Blaine is standing there in just a white dress shirt and boxers, and Kurt feels the immense need to rub his hands up and down Blaine's side and back and chest and explore his neck with his tongue and work on undoing those buttons on the shirt—

But then he hears the murmur of Nathan and John downstairs, laughing over something, and stops himself. He cracks up and shakes his head. "Damnit Blaine, why do you have to get half-naked in front of me for the first time _here_?"

Blaine grins and tilts his head to one side. "Sorry. Does this make up for that party?"

"No, because I'm not making out with you right now like Ms. Berry was," Kurt says, rolling his eyes.

"Let us fix this," Blaine murmurs before moving his face in to Kurt's, pressing his lips lightly against Kurt's, not kissing so much as just—touching—with lips—and he breathes in shakily before running his lips down the corner of Kurt's face to that spot on his jaw, oh—_god_, that spot—

"Blaine," Kurt gasps.

Blaine puts his hand around the small of Kurt's back and pulls him in. He is finally kissing, kissing hard against Kurt's jaw, down his neck to his collarbone. Kurt doesn't know where the sounds coming from him have originated, but he can't focus his brain on anything—and Blaine is pulling Kurt against him even harder, sucking on his neck right above the collarbone, but not quite long enough to leave a hickey before he moves his face up to meet Kurt's again. Kurt is flailing internally, always undone by the intensity of making out with Blaine, undone by the way Blaine sucks just lightly on his lower lip before pushing his tongue into his mouth. Kurt moans and his hands cup around Blaine's face, keeping him close—pushing into him and being pushed back by Blaine, equally intent on getting as tight against him as possible—and Kurt is walking Blaine backwards against the nearest empty space of wall, and now he can lean with full purpose into Blaine, the wall serving as a surface for Blaine to writhe off of, his chest, his stomach, his—everything—pushing up against Kurt, pushing, pulling—Kurt pants briefly as he dislodges his lips from Blaine's and goes for that sensitive spot he likes behind the ear—and—

It's Kurt's phone vibrating in his pocket that finally breaks them apart. Kurt unlocks his mouth from behind Blaine's ear with a gasp, and they just look at each other for a while, breathing hard. Kurt puts his hands up and rubs his thumb across Blaine's brow line, and kisses him softly on the upper edge of his left cheek.

Then he fishes in his pocket for the iPhone. It's a text from Mercedes, of course: "where r u? u have 2 c rachels dress"

Kurt reads the text out loud to Blaine, who laughs and says, "On behalf of myself two months ago, I really do apologize for going out on that misguided date with her."

"Hey, it's okay," Kurt says sincerely, putting his hands on the sides of Blaine's face and smiling at him. "I get to tease you about it mercilessly for the rest of your life, so I forgive you."

Blaine laughs and shakes his head. "I guess that's fair. Hey, weren't we doing something?"

"You are so obvious, Mr. Anderson."

"It's on purpose," Blaine says, and attempts to go in for the spot on the jaw again, but Kurt holds him back—just enough, still feeling his warmth but not letting him close enough to lose his mind again.

"Prom, Blaine."

"But—"

"Prom."

Blaine crinkles his face and sighs, but pulls away and walks to the rack of suits. "All right, which of these will keep you occupied staring at me all night?"

Kurt snorts and shakes his head, his face going dopey again looking at his boyfriend. "All of them, Blaine. All of them."


End file.
